ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ
Primeday, Month 2, 852 ABY.
Wroshyr Tree Hotel.
Avalonia.
The afternoon was cool and peaceful, as was often the case on Avalonia, the shining jewel of the First Order. This would Madelyn's fourth trip to the planet of Dosuun. This time it was on official business with the Grand Moff. They would be meeting personally to discuss the situation on Varonat, which her peers seemed to dismiss as irrelevant, despite the fact the problem was days away from spiralling out of control.
She'd had a busy few months since the Alliance had been beaten back from her home planet. In the aftermath, she had become so overwhelmed with her duties that she forgot about her plotting, even pushing aside the issue of Deputy Director Shephard and her lackeys hovering over her. It felt good in a strange way, to get lost in her work. The sickness inside her, the hunger for power, was suppressed, pushed aside by a more immediate desire not to lose her job, and of course to protect the people of Varonat. The good feelings didn't last long. The effects of the attempted invasion had become clear barely a week after her official inauguration as Governor.
It was to be expected, she supposed. The illusion of safety had been shattered. In the weeks following the attack major businesses began to pull out, closing shop on Varonat and moving to new locations elsewhere within Order space. Primarily they were the other planets along the Ison Corridor, that had mostly forgotten they had faced an identical threat only a few years prior. Before her very eyes Varonat's secondary industry crumbled into dust. What little factories remained were expected to fill the usual quotas to go to the war effort, resulting in an economy strained to the breaking point.
Madelyn had taken the necessary actions to alleviate the stress. She'd introduced government subsidies, borrowing as much as she could from the State's coffers to keep the remaining industry afloat. Civilian rationing was introduced to maintain quotas of goods for the war effort, but still the economy was suffering. She'd reached out to the governments of the Ison Corridor with little to no success. The consensus was that she was exaggerating the problems in order to get special treatment in the form of aid and funding. What's more, her cabinet was tearing itself apart, each adviser unable to agree with each other on how to fix the worsening problem.
Desparate, she'd come here, to Dosuun, to appeal personally to the Grand Moff. Perhaps the First Order would be merciful to one of its planets struggling in the wake of Alliance aggression. She could only hope so.
Fussing, she adjusted her collar, fanning herself with a menu and straightening non-existant creases in her sensible skirt. To say she was nervous was an understatement. She could not afford to make a bad impression. Suppressing a sigh, she waved over her assistant. "How long until Grand Moff Fortan arrives?" The man nodded in response. "I have been told she will be here any minute now, Madam Commissioner."
Wroshyr Tree Hotel.
Avalonia.
The afternoon was cool and peaceful, as was often the case on Avalonia, the shining jewel of the First Order. This would Madelyn's fourth trip to the planet of Dosuun. This time it was on official business with the Grand Moff. They would be meeting personally to discuss the situation on Varonat, which her peers seemed to dismiss as irrelevant, despite the fact the problem was days away from spiralling out of control.
She'd had a busy few months since the Alliance had been beaten back from her home planet. In the aftermath, she had become so overwhelmed with her duties that she forgot about her plotting, even pushing aside the issue of Deputy Director Shephard and her lackeys hovering over her. It felt good in a strange way, to get lost in her work. The sickness inside her, the hunger for power, was suppressed, pushed aside by a more immediate desire not to lose her job, and of course to protect the people of Varonat. The good feelings didn't last long. The effects of the attempted invasion had become clear barely a week after her official inauguration as Governor.
It was to be expected, she supposed. The illusion of safety had been shattered. In the weeks following the attack major businesses began to pull out, closing shop on Varonat and moving to new locations elsewhere within Order space. Primarily they were the other planets along the Ison Corridor, that had mostly forgotten they had faced an identical threat only a few years prior. Before her very eyes Varonat's secondary industry crumbled into dust. What little factories remained were expected to fill the usual quotas to go to the war effort, resulting in an economy strained to the breaking point.
Madelyn had taken the necessary actions to alleviate the stress. She'd introduced government subsidies, borrowing as much as she could from the State's coffers to keep the remaining industry afloat. Civilian rationing was introduced to maintain quotas of goods for the war effort, but still the economy was suffering. She'd reached out to the governments of the Ison Corridor with little to no success. The consensus was that she was exaggerating the problems in order to get special treatment in the form of aid and funding. What's more, her cabinet was tearing itself apart, each adviser unable to agree with each other on how to fix the worsening problem.
Desparate, she'd come here, to Dosuun, to appeal personally to the Grand Moff. Perhaps the First Order would be merciful to one of its planets struggling in the wake of Alliance aggression. She could only hope so.
Fussing, she adjusted her collar, fanning herself with a menu and straightening non-existant creases in her sensible skirt. To say she was nervous was an understatement. She could not afford to make a bad impression. Suppressing a sigh, she waved over her assistant. "How long until Grand Moff Fortan arrives?" The man nodded in response. "I have been told she will be here any minute now, Madam Commissioner."
[member="Natasi Fortan Vitalis"]